


be still

by tekuates



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spnspringfling, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 19:52:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3662868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tekuates/pseuds/tekuates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is a Laundromat, and a sunny day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	be still

It’s a beautiful day, which means it's a bad day for Sam and Dean to get anything done. Hunters like dark and gloom, because monsters like dark and gloom. Hell, it’ll be hard to even  _find_  a job in this kind of weather. This is what Dean claims, anyway, and Sam doesn’t want to do anything today either, so he doesn’t poke at Dean’s flimsy excuses.  
  
It’s lovely out, sunny but not overpoweringly so; a lazy June day, cats basking in the sun and sunlit trees a brilliant green. Nothing to do. So today Sam and Dean are doing laundry. Or, more accurately, Sam's doing laundry. Dean's shoplifting from a convenience store.  
  
They don't shoplift much; too easy to get caught. And it's not like credit card fraud, where they'll be hundreds of miles away when someone realizes the problem. When you shoplift and get caught, that's it, and breaking out of jail isn't actually fun, no matter what Dean says. But they've had a run of bad luck and they're out of cash, and Dean has decided they should spend their money on washing their clothes. Food is easier to steal than clothes, after all, and wearing the same clothes for days was the kind of thing that wore on you, especially when crammed into a car with another person. So Sam's in the laundromat, their last few dollars in change in his jeans pocket, pretending to separate their laundry into whites and colors while Dean shoplifts laundry detergent and food.  
  
The door rattles as Dean comes in. It’s hot enough outside that he’s ditched his jacket and even his usual t-shirt, leaving only a threadbare undershirt.   
  
"Hey," he says, and digs a few packets of detergent out of his pocket, dropping them on top of the washing machine next to Sam’s laundry piles. His fingers are powdery white from detergent. "Ah, shit. One of the things must’ve ripped.” Dean wipes his hand on his jeans, leaving a streak.  
  
Sam doesn't respond, busy tossing the laundry into a washing machine, pouring out the detergent. Dean clearly takes this as a challenge of some sort because he reaches out, wipes his hand again, this time across the collar of Sam's shirt.  
  
"Stop it, Jesus," Sam says.   
  
Dean smiles at him, somewhere between utter delight and a shit-eating  _who, me?_ grin. Sam sighs.   
  
"C'mon," Sam says.  
  
The laundromat has a big window at the front, what Sam would call a bay window if it wasn’t in a crappy laundromat, and they sit in it, leaning against opposite walls. Sam reads, some crappy James Patterson novel. Dean kicks him.  
  
"Stop," Sam says, as Dean does it again. Sam traps Dean's kicking foot between his ankles. "I'm reading, go away."  
  
"Sam _my_ ," Dean says, his voice on the edge of a whine. Probably getting bored, because Dean, unlike Sam, is never prepared. Even after years and years of stakeouts, doing laundry, waiting for Dad, Dean has somehow never learned how to find something to do, or failing that, just be still.  
  
"Sammy," Dean says again. Sam looks up before he thinks not to, which is a mistake. Dean feeds off attention.   
  
Dean's looking at him, head tilted back against the wall. He's right in a patch of sunlight, and he looks warm and sleepy, light pooling on his collarbones.  
  
"What," Sam says, and pushes a hand through his own hair, a nervous gesture.

Dean smiles at him, just a little, a slight slant of his mouth.

"What?" Sam asks again.  
  
"Nothing," Dean says finally, still smiling. "Bitch."  
  
"Jerk," Sam says, and goes back to his book, Dean's leg still trapped between both of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spnspringfling; you can see the original post [here](http://spnspringfling.livejournal.com/132495.html), or on my Livejournal [here](http://tekuates.livejournal.com/16232.html). I can also be found on [Tumblr](tekuates.tumblr.com); come say hi!


End file.
